The Prince's Ball

Luciana rose from her bath and a servant wrapped a towel around her snugly, helping her climb out of the large tub. Luciana dried herself and slipped on a light robe before pulling back the curtain.

William was sitting on a day bed, his feet propped up comfortably. He was eating and staring out across the balcony at the city below. Luciana stole a grape from his plate. “Enjoying the view?” she asked, popping the grape into her mouth.

William sighed contentedly. “I’m afraid this is going to spoil me for service,” he said, looking up at her lazily.

The sun began to creep down as they laughed and ate, forgetting everything and everyone outside of that room. As the sky went from blue to gold, William became pensive.

“Are you about to give me a brotherly lecture?” Luciana asked, pulling her knees to her chest.

“I’m just not sure about Mason’s intentions toward you,” William admitted.

Luciana rolled her eyes. “His intentions? His intentions are to marry a princess, become king and rule Orrimm, in that order. I’m pretty sure I don’t figure into that.”

William sat up, resting his elbows on his knees. “There’s something about the way he looks at you,” he insisted, looking at her intently.

Luciana gasped. “You’re jealous!” she squealed, throwing a cushion at him. William’s ears flamed and he stood up restlessly. “I’m not jealous of him. He’s proven himself to be a decent and honorable man, but that doesn’t mean I trust him.”

Luciana smiled knowingly, but didn’t press the subject.

The servants entered bearing armfuls of clothing and the screen was erected once again as they prepared for the ball. The seamstress, a short woman with horn-rimmed spectacles, brought over a grey box and carefully removed the lid.

"The prince had one of your tunics brought to me and I selected a gown for you.  I really think I made an excellent choice, according to your coloring."

She carefully unfolded the garment, and Luciana gasped. It was a shimmering emerald green, with diamonds winking along the outline of the bodice. The skirt was full and billowed fashionably, pinned artistically with more diamonds. The woman chuckled at Luciana’s thunderstruck expression. "Well, do you want to put it on or not?"

Luciana nodded, and they set to work. She gave her cambric undergarments, then slipped the dress over her head.

Luciana didn’t get to see herself before the woman promptly sat her down and began styling her hair. She wove it into elaborate braids and twisted it until it was all piled on top of her head. After applying makeup, shoes and jewelry, the seamstress summoned a mirror. "Well, what do you think?"

Luciana couldn't believe the transformation. Her hair was exquisitely pinned, with a few curls hanging loose around her face, and her bare shoulders were set off exquisitely by the sleeveless gown. Her seamstress handed her a fan and gave a satisfied sigh.

“Are you ready yet?” William called, his shadow pacing in front of the screen. The servants pulled the curtains aside and Luciana stepped out, her skirts brushing the floor softly. William looked up and was frozen, his lips parted with astonishment. There was a look in his eyes that Luciana had never seen before, and she quickly looked down at his boots.

“Am I ridiculous?” she asked, her timidity surprising her. William shook his head. “No,” he said softly.

Luciana looked up again and William shook himself. “It wouldn’t do to keep a prince waiting,” he said, offering his arm. She took it gratefully, gathering her skirts with her free hand. They took a collective breath and left the room, leaving the freedom they had found within.

William looked rather dangerous in black brocade, with thick breeches and tall boots that were buffed to perfection. The tailored cut of the jacket embraced his muscled shoulders and arms, tapering slightly at the waist. Luciana felt pride at such a handsome escort and squeezed his arm happily as they approached the ballroom.

They fell into the line of nobles outside the grand doors, blending in seamlessly. They crossed over the threshold and gasped in unison.

They were on a balcony high above the ballroom, with staircases leading down on either side. In the center of the room couples glided through a minuet, the ladies’ dresses swirls of riotous color. A dais on one side bore four thrones, and the king and queen presided regally over the event. There were clusters of candles in every corner, and some were even suspended in silver hangings from the ceiling. Luciana was thoroughly dazzled and she strived to see and remember everything.

They descended the staircase on the right, trying to keep a calm and disinterested appearance. Mason approached, magnificent in purple velvet.  He gave each of them a once over, then nodded.

"You may be servants, but tonight you both look like royalty. Come, meet my parents."

He led them across the dance floor to the royal dais. King Percival, a stout man with a luxurious beard, sat on their left, while Queen Bree, a slender woman with the prince's curly blond hair, sat on their right.

"Mother, Father, these are the two I was telling you about. William and Luciana."

Both bowed deeply as Mason introduced them. King Percival grinned broadly. "Well, you two certainly have caused quite a stir over the last few days. Mason tells me you defeated him in combat, lad. Is that so?"

William bowed again. King Percival slapped his knee. "I should have liked to have seen that. And I give you my personal thanks for your help when my son was injured. And you, young woman," said the king, addressing Luciana. "You saved my son’s life from an assassin today. Without your sharp eyes and quick thinking, we might have had a funeral instead of a ball. Thank you.”

Luciana curtsied again, unable to speak.

“We count ourselves lucky to have you with us,” the queen added. “Please enjoy the evening.”

William and Luciana withdrew and entered the crowd, releasing a sigh of relief. “If you had told me before we left Argan that we would attend a ball and meet the king and queen, I would’ve laughed in your face,” William said, shaking his head. Luciana nodded, her eyes darting all over the room.

William took her hand gently. “She won’t bother us,” he whispered in her ear. “The prince ensured that.”

Luciana squeezed his hand gratefully.

Mason joined them, bearing elegant goblets in each hand. “Drink up,” he said jovially, holding them out. “This is my party, and I’m determined that you two enjoy every moment of it.”

They accepted the cups and sipped carefully. The wine was rich and fruity, and they felt themselves relax a little.

“Your Highness!” Someone called. Mason sighed and pasted a smile on his face.

It was Catherine, forcing her way through the crowd over to the prince. She was a veritable migraine in a scarlet gown with a heavily jeweled bodice. Her orange hair was precariously piled on top of her head and she wore thick white makeup.

“I just wanted to wish your Majesty a happy birthday and…” she saw Luciana and her expression turned icy. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were engaged.”

William stepped in front of Luciana protectively, frowning hard.

“William and Luciana are my honored guests, Lady Catherine,” Mason said calmly. “You may recall that Luciana saved my life earlier today.”

“Well, she nearly killed me,” Catherine sniffed petulantly. “I have a knot on my head the size of an apple from being shoved into that fountain. And my dress was ruined! I’ve a good mind to add that to her debt!”

Luciana trembled at this. An expensive dress like that could add years to her indenture if Catherine got her way.

“I’ll be more than happy to pay for the dress, my lady. Consider it a gift,” Mason offered, smiling gallantly.

Unable to refuse him, Catherine curtsied stiffly and left them, her hair wobbling indignantly.

Luciana let out a relieved sigh as Catherine disappeared among the guests. “Thank you, Your Highness,” she said, a tear spilling over in spite of herself. Mason nodded. “No one will punish you for doing me a service, I assure you of that.”

William shifted slightly and Luciana was pained for him. She gave a small curtsey and they parted from the prince. They stood by a window and watched the carriages come through the gates below. William drained his goblet quickly, his expression dark.

“William, please…”

He looked at her and her words died on her lips, useless when faced with his wretchedness.

“How many years did I watch her strike you and could do nothing but watch you cry?” He demanded. “How many times did you lie when I asked how bad it was?”

“I lied to protect you!” Luciana whispered, her chin quivering. “I would’ve lost you to the noose years ago because of your temper! And now there’s someone here who can help me, help all of us, and you can’t let go of your pride.”

“My pride is all I have!” William retorted angrily. “That prince has everything; wealth, power, authority. Pride is the only thing they can’t take from me and I won’t give it up!”

His heated tone drew glances from nearby guests and he took a deep breath. “I’m not a man, Luci,” he said quietly. “Tonight I see that I’m nothing, and I can’t bear it.”

He left her by the window, tossing his empty goblet to the floor. Luciana closed her eyes and sobbed silently, resting her forehead on the cool glass. She felt a presence beside her and opened her eyes slowly. Mason was looking at her concernedly, extending a handkerchief. She sighed bitterly and took it, drying her cheeks carelessly.

“Is it Catherine?” He asked softly. Luciana shook her head. They remained by the window in silence for several moments while Luciana composed herself.

“Catherine has abused me all my life,” she said. “Every time William is forced to stand by and do nothing. He cannot bear my pain and I cannot bear his.”

She returned his handkerchief and sipped from her goblet. The wine steadied her and she breathed more evenly.

“Then he’s selfish,” Mason decided. “What does it matter who helps you, as long as help comes?”

Luciana glanced over to where Mason’s sister, Princess Karrie, was dancing. “If you couldn’t protect her, how much would it matter then?”

Mason didn’t reply and Luciana sipped her wine again. “William is grateful to you for stopping Catherine today,” she said. “He just wishes it was him and not you.”

Luciana walked away, keeping to the wall as she went. She watched the dancers disinterestedly, hoping to catch a glance of William. His anguish was hers, and yet she half-resented him for spoiling such a magical night.

The music swelled gloriously, floating down from the balcony where the orchestra played like angels strumming their harps for the mortals below. Luciana closed her eyes and allowed herself to be swept up in it all, pretending her whole life had never happened and she was just one more duchess in a pretty gown.

So this is what freedom feels like.

“I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Luciana opened her eyes reluctantly. A thin man in blue satin stood in front of her, smiling. “I am Count Radamar, a member of His Majesty’s high court.”

Luciana dipped her head. “Luciana,” she said, placing her hand in Radamar’s proffered one. He planted a slow kiss on her fingers. Luciana made to pull her hand back, but Radamar kept it tightly in his own. “May I have the honor of a dance, my lady?” He asked, a little too sweetly.

“Thank you, but I’m not feeling up to a dance just now,” she said politely. Radamar pulled her close, making her skin prickle. “I’m not a man women say no to,” he whispered, running his hand up her waist sickeningly. Luciana tried to break away, but she was caught between him and the wall. Suddenly Radamar was wrenched backwards onto his seat, his limbs flailing wildly. The other guests laughed as he struggled to right himself, his reddened face a stark contrast to his rumpled blue tunic.

Luciana looked for her savior and locked eyes with William. He began to say something, but Luciana shook her head. “Thank you for saving me,” she whispered, smiling gently. She embraced him and felt a tear drip onto her bare neck.

Suddenly there was a deep rumble within the castle that made the ground tremble. The music died and the dancers halted abruptly, looking around fearfully. There was a great bang and all at once the windows shattered, raining glass down upon them as a cold wind blew through the ballroom. The candles guttered and died, plunging the room into darkness. Women screamed and men reached for weapons that weren’t there.

“Remain calm!” The king called above the wind. “I’m sure it’s just a small earth tremor! There’s nothing to fear!”

Black smoke poured into the room and a horrible chittering noise filled the air. Luciana felt her heart go cold and she grabbed William’s hand. “We have to get out of here!” she said as panic took hold of the room. The doors were jammed with people striving to get out, heedlessly trampling others in their hysteria. William pulled her to the nearest staircase.

“Wait!” Luciana yelled. “The prince!”

William scanned the crowd and caught a glimpse of moonlight on golden curls. “Here!” He yelled, tugging Luciana after him.

Mason was attempting to organize the guards when William grabbed his arm. “You have to get out of here!” He yelled.

“No!” Mason said, shaking his head emphatically. “I have to protect everyone!”

“You’re the one that needs protecting!” William insisted.

Luciana looked up and screamed. Black creatures were materializing on the ceiling and crawling down like insects to the mob below.

“Mason, please!” She pleaded, thrusting her hand out. After a breathless moment, he took it and the three of them ran for the staircase.

“I know a way out!” He called, leading them under the stairs. He pulled a lever and a small door opened in the wall, a dark maw of hope. They rushed in and the door closed behind them almost instantly, leaving them in total darkness.

“This leads to the west wall,” Mason gasped. “We can get to a safe place from there.”

Luciana felt Mason brush past her and take the lead, still clasping her hand. She looped her skirts over her arm and they began to walk, William close behind her. The screams of the nobles slowly faded as they traveled through the castle, only to be replaced by the servants cries as they passed their rooms. Luciana felt Mason’s grip tighten and and she wept as they passed.

After the cacophony faded once more, the only noise to be heard was their footsteps on the stone floor and Luciana’s skirts swishing softly. None of them spoke, afraid to give voice to what was happening.

They reached the end and spilled out of the tunnel into the night, sweaty and breathless. They were in the street and it seemed deserted. Mason beckoned to them and they ran after him, through streets and alleys with only starlight to guide them. William thought it odd that they hadn’t crossed paths with anyone as they reached their destination.

It was a small tradesman’s house, with a boarded-up stall attached. Mason led them inside and closed the door behind them.

They rested a moment, leaning against the wall as they struggled to catch their breath. William spotted matches and used them to light a nearby lantern, filling the room with a soft yellow light. It was simply furnished with a table, chairs and a loom by the fireplace.

“There’s someone behind the loom,” Luciana whispered. They crept forward and were greeted by a gruesome sight.

A woman was sprawled in a chair, a carding comb still in her lap. Her skin was pure white and stretched across her bones like a drum. Her staring eyes were blackened and her face streaked with sooty tears. Her mouth was open in a final scream that depicted her horrific last moments.

Luciana swayed and William caught her, his own body trembling. Mason drew back, his eyes wide and fearful. “Whatever attacked us,” he whispered hoarsely, “attacked them first.”

Author's Note

What do you think of William's struggle with himself?